


All of This Is New

by KyeS (FancyTrinkets)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Ficlet, M/M, POV Dorian Pavus, Pavelyan - Freeform, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:05:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27130141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyTrinkets/pseuds/KyeS
Summary: None of this is new. Dorian's been there and done that — plenty of times and with an awful lot of men.
Relationships: Dorian Pavus/Male Trevelyan, Dorian Pavus/Trevelyan, Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49





	All of This Is New

He's in a bed. With a man. Being fucked.

None of this is new. Dorian's been there and done that — plenty of times and with an awful lot of men.

If he shuts his eyes and focuses only on the dripping sweat and the slapping sound of their bodies together, he can almost imagine it's the same as it's always been. Sex. And the pleasures thereof. Being spread open, stretched wide, and taken — thrust into, over and over and over again by a partner with stamina who knows what he's doing. It's good and it's glorious and, yes — it could be the same as it's always been.

But it isn't. This man is no stranger. 

He's not going to spend himself and then get up to leave — avoiding eye contact, dressing as quickly as he can to minimize their time spent together, and perhaps saying a word or two, but nothing of consequence. 

No, this man doesn't do that.

Trevelyan doesn't flee. 

Not from foes in the heat of battle. Not from friends in the heat of an argument. Not when he's facing down yet another dragon and the first words from his mouth are "oh, fuck, no, not this again." And not even from a disaster of a man like Dorian, who wants to be loved so badly but doesn't know how any of this is supposed to work.

Trevelyan stays put and holds on and says ridiculous things like, "I hope you've enjoyed this as much as I have," and "Don't go, I like waking up with you," and "If you're troubled, Dorian, we can always talk about it."

Right now, of course, Trevelyan doesn't say a word. He's too far gone, straining with effort as he pulls back and strokes in. Faster now. Impossibly faster.

Dorian shuts his eyes and imagines other men. 

Men who don't know him — or who do, but don't care for him much — who appreciate a handsome face and a body like his. 

It's not that he wants Trevelyan less or desires those other men more. That's not it at all.

Those countless nights were fun, of course. He remembers them fondly. And when they weren't fun, they were mercifully soon forgotten — thanks to the wine and the pursuit of other pleasures. But there were times during all that delicious, impersonal sex when he used to shut his eyes and imagine it differently. 

He'd imagine a perfect, impossible scenario in which he was cared for. Perhaps even loved.

Absurd, of course. And foolish. Doomed to fail, as well, because he could maintain the illusion for only so long. Inevitably, he would open his eyes and the truth would come crashing back to hit him, like a brutal spell rebounding.

And all of that is the entire reason why he thinks of other men now. It's not a reflection of what he wants, but instead it's what he doesn't. He imagines it as vividly as he can — pretends that a stranger is having him — or no, better yet, that a man who doesn't like him is using him anyway, regardless of personal distaste. 

And then he opens his eyes. Reality comes flooding back to greet him and he's overwhelmed — not with sorrowful longing, but with joyful relief.

Because the reality is Trevelyan, groaning and shivering as his climax takes hold. 

The truth is this beautiful man who will laugh with him after and ask him not to go. Who will say, "I always like the mornings better when you're here."

**Author's Note:**

> Explicit ficlets tend to happen when I'm in the middle of writing a longer fic.


End file.
